When Crabs Get Pubic Humans

That Mxy guy from the 5th dimension who tormented Superman couldn't even get close to a Ba-Ba-Booey moment in this news cycle. I'm starting to feel like our grandparents did when they saw the kids in Germany who went wild watching Bill Haley and the Comets do Rock Around the Clock and threw chairs (the kids not our grandparents). Orwell's Newspeak is the language of campaigners in most states (pray the gay away, default to save the planet, 911 -'nuff said, end taxation and save our deficit nation). Thank god for rootbeer barrels. Last night's dream featured gluing a new tabletop - perhaps a metaphor for getting hair transplants? No? Then don't expect anything here to repeat the re-run about geriatric scro-tretch marks. Of course I heard the sigh of appreciation. There's a high end fish dinner somewhere in the near future. I keep imagining the mm-m-m-ms. When you're 200 lbs. of non-morbid suppleness the language spoken here is mostly interjections. No more of those "my ass and your face" vilifications to questions about matches. When you save the best for last, better make sure there's no epilogue to kill the crescendo. They were called High Hopes in a different Must See Tv-time frame. I sense there's more. But ALL good.